


Minecraft Story Mode Countdown

by Lunaraen



Category: MCSM, Minecraft Story Mode
Genre: Adventure, Fantasy, Ficlet Collection, Magical Realism, Team as Family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-31
Updated: 2017-07-31
Packaged: 2018-12-09 03:54:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 11,029
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11661093
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lunaraen/pseuds/Lunaraen
Summary: Nine ficlets written for the Minecraft: Story Mode countdown.





	1. Day One

Foot tapping gets old quick.

That's why Olivia's circling the base of the tree instead, occasionally pausing to glance up the ladder and at the trapdoor that hasn't been touched since she and Axel used it.

Every now and then a stray leaf crunches under her feet, most of the ones she does end up walking on somewhere between a warm brown and a darker red. It's a little early for fall, closer to the blistering middle of summer, but Jesse's tree has always been just as different and odd as Jesse.

The less natural, more human made parts don't look like they've been doing so well, though. The wood of the trapdoor's bent slightly, looking like it's ready to start gnarling the way the tree's branches have. Said branches are still sturdier, and honestly safer, than the even more twisted steps up the ladder, some of them weathered enough to be ready to crack. Jesse always pushes off taking care of these things in favor if focusing on Endercon, but the ladder's been having more than a few issues lately.

She'll help Jesse replace it again tomorrow.

It's been a while, even if that while's been shorter than most of the other ones. The ladder's due some maintenance, as is the rest of the house. Not that noticing a problem and having to push it off makes Olivia feel better, but it is what it is.

And she can hear Jesse, muffled and walking around above them, no doubt talking to Reuben and sounding just as upbeat as ever.

It's not like they have a competition to get to or anything.

"Alright, what's eating you?" Axel's words, not loud but still much louder than the crunching of leaves and Jesse's somewhat distant voice, get Olivia to pause, lifting her head to look away from the ground and up at him while the rest of her stays frozen mid step.

"What?"

"You're pacing." Olivia shifts, crossing her arms across her chest as she turns to face Axel, raising an eyebrow.

"So?"

"You don't pace like that unless something's bothering you." She wants to argue, but he has a point, and he continues before she can anyway. "Is it because we're waiting for Jesse?"

"What? No. It's not like we're going to be late if Jesse takes a little longer. We're fine." Axel give her a flat look that lets her know he's not buying it and she sighs, absently tugging at her hair for a few moments while her brain tries to fumble for the right sort of words. "I just _—_ how does Jesse even _do_ it?"

It occurs to Olivia a second too late, after Axel's brow furrows, that maybe she should've been a bit more specific. Just because it bothers her doesn't mean it bothers him.

"Do what?"

"Be so positive about everything. People have been picking on us for years, and for just about everything, but Jesse doesn't seem to care. At all. Like we're just one win away from suddenly being seen as something besides losers." And like bringing along Reuben won't make things even worse for them. Olivia likes Reuben, really she does, but it's already too easy to imagine the trouble he could get into and get them into. It's not hard to see the teasing getting worse right off the bat, that's for sure. "How can anybody be that optimistic?"

"Well, usually it helps if they aren't trying to be giant downers about everything. You might want to give it a try." She knows he thinks he's hilarious, but this is the same guy who thinks giving his friends near heart attacks is funny too.

"Oh, like you like getting your butt kicked every year." Olivia rolls her eyes. "Or dealing with the Ocelots' comments every time any of us ever see them in town."

And of course Olivia would love to wipe those smirks right off of their faces one of these days, but the thing about being told that she's worthless and below them all the time? Well, she starts to believe it, and not trying sounds so much easier, especially if it means not dealing with them.

When they're not picking on her for being such a screw up, they're teasing Axel for his size. The only person who hates them more than her is him.

Maybe that's why it surprises her that Axel doesn't even pause before shrugging.

"Jesse's Jesse." She can’t and won’t argue that. It's a bit of an obvious statement, but it's also the best way to explain pretty much anything Jesse does or says. "I've stopped trying to figure it out. It's nice, though, right?"

"...yeah. It is." Jesse's ability to smile and shrug things off when Olivia just wants to curl up in bed and never come out again is just as reassuring as it is worrying. Olivia knows that Jesse has to be bottling some of it up, at least, and eventually it's going to be too much. It'll have to be. "But Jesse's going to have to realize how pointless hoping is. And that's going to be crushing."

"It's not pointless _—_  okay, look, forget it." Axel waves a hand as he groans before he smiles, the tree's bark digging into his hoodie as he leans against the base. "Want to know something that isn't pointless?"

She probably shouldn't answer, but they've got time to kill and Axel's already pulled one stupid trick.

"I'll bite. What?"

"How do some nice victory treats for after we win sound?"

As much as they might not always agree, Olivia's not going to argue when it comes to anything sweet that Axel's managed to find. She has no idea how, and isn't sure she wants to know how, but he's always been the best at getting the greatest sweets and desserts.

"Good. We'll probably end up eating them to make ourselves feel better about losing again, you know." Olivia's grin gets wider as Axel rolls his eyes.

"Whatever. We'll still get to eat them when we head back home, feeling awesome."

"What are we eating?" Olivia's not sure which of them is more surprised by Jesse's much clearer and much louder voice, Jesse's footsteps just as loud thanks to carrying Reuben.

"Nothing right now." Olivia's hand shifts to her pocket as she speaks, a light pat proving that her tools and the redstone are still in the pouch she left them in. She glances at Axel, who's straightened up, before smiling at Jesse. "Don't we have somewhere to be?"

"Well, yeah, but first we'll need the materials." Jesse grins, setting Reuben, costume and all, down before turning to face them. "So, here's what we're gonna do..."


	2. Day Two

Jesse's had a pretty busy day, by just about anybody's standards. Not many people would call meeting the world's greatest Redstone Engineer, nearly creating a Command Block, and then barely escaping a writhing tentacled block eating monster, all while it tears apart one of the best known cities and gobbles its citizens up, boring.

Getting to sleep should be easy.

It's not.

And Jesse's not stupid enough to try and pin it on just one reason, not when everybody's facing what could be the end of the world if they don't find Soren and his F-Bomb in the morning, not when they all could die tonight because Jesse wouldn't let them leave, but it really doesn't help that Petra's acting suspicious.

And Jesse feels bad about thinking it, especially when, if Jesse had been a little smarter or a little quicker, Petra could've been safe and sound with them, instead of going through what she has, but that doesn't change that her behavior's off more than a little and by more than just a sudden and now gone cold can explain. Whatever it is, Petra's hardly been volunteering to talk about, insisting on keeping look out despite Ellegaard and Magnus doing the same thing away from the beds and in front of the wall.

Why's it so hard to believe? She ran for hours, through the dark with almost no idea of where to go. She spent more than a day just trying to survive, and while that's what Petra does best, it's still a lot. Anybody else would probably be sick as a dog, if they went through what Petra's been through. A cold makes total sense.

Or it should. Something just keeps it from feeling...  _right_. Petra's not acting like she's sick. She's acting like there's something else going on, almost like she's not all there.

It could be a cold. A really fast cold that should still be there, should have Petra sniffling and coughing, should have her feel warm instead of cold to the touch, but a cold all the same. She's probably still a little sick and exhausted. And besides, nobody's going to act the way they normally do when the apocalypse is going on.

Jesse's just... making this out to be a bigger deal than it is.

And that would probably be the end of it, if Jesse's bed wasn't set up the way it is, with Jesse's head close to the end of Lukas's bed. Close enough for Lukas to apparently risk leaning over and hissing at Jesse.

Because who doesn't love a near heart attack?

"She push you away too?"

It takes all of Jesse's willpower not to jerk upright, or at least turn a lot more quickly to get a better look at Lukas, but making that kind of noise would sort of defeat the purpose of whispering in the first place.

"Huh?" The slow, very much forced, turn, is accompanied by just as slow blinking as Jesse looks at Lukas, who looks just as close to collapsing.

"Petra." Jesse nods without thinking, confused but not complaining about how a name can sum up so much. "I tried talking to her earlier, while you were with Magnus, but she made it pretty clear she didn't want to talk. Maybe it's just me, but... she seems pretty cagey."

Maybe Petra's mad that they're not moving, that they're staying here. She's the one with the most up close experience, after all. She has a right to be mad.

"She can also hear you." Lukas turns his head the same time Jesse does, both of them staring at Petra. The bags under her eyes definitely don't make her look any happier with either of them, and the scowl clears up any potential misunderstandings as she hisses back. "What? I'm closer to you guys than anybody else is."

Well, while that's true now, as Jesse's poor heart, which can't take much more of this as it tries to escape Jesse's chest for the umpteenth time that day, can confirm, Petra was, a minute ago, the farthest away from them, standing on top of the rubble left over from what used to be a wall and looking out on the endless and currently unharmed forest. Jesse knows people talking behind her back isn't what Petra needs or wants, but Jesse also doesn't want to have a heart attack.

At least it's good to know that Petra's steps are as quiet as ever–- or that Jesse's just as oblivious as ever.

"Sorry."

Petra's frown gets deeper and Jesse tries, for one hopeful moment, to melt into the covers. Unfortunately, it doesn't work, and Petra's tone is just as sour when she continues.

"I thought we were trying to get some rest, not wake everybody up."

Jesse's too tired to stop the chuckle before it escapes or hide the grin that follows it.

"I don't think we have to worry too much about that. It took Olivia three seconds to fall asleep. Everybody's beat, and besides, Axel's closest and he's a real deep sleeper." Technically, Reuben's closest, sleeping on the ground beside Jesse's bed, but Reuben's almost as deep a sleeper. "It'd take something pretty bad to wake him up early."

Something bad like the Witherstorm.

The Witherstorm that's tearing up more and more of the world and possibly getting closer every second.

The three of them glance at each other. From Petra's even more pinched expression to Lukas's grimace, it's not hard to tell they're all thinking the same thing.

Great.

...well, if they ever need somebody to make things horribly awkward at the worst time possible, Jesse knows none of them are going to have to go too far.

"And on that lovely note, I'm going to go back to keeping an eye out." Petra shifts, straightening up as she turns, gaze already off of them and past the temple, back on the trees and hills surrounding them. After a moment, she glances over her shoulder, back at them, fingers tapping softly against the stone for a few moments before she turns her head again and gives them both a weak smile. "Why don't you guys actually get some sleep? That's why we're still here."

"Petra-–"

"Don't worry so much. I'm fine." Neither of them move and she rolls her eyes, still smiling as she turns and starts to quietly climb the mound of cracked and chipped stone. "Really. It's just a cold. I'm gonna be okay."

Jesse's not sure if she's saying it more for herself or for them, and maybe it'd help more if she didn't wince the way she does when she turns, when she thinks neither of them can see her, but they've all had enough fighting today and she does have a point, so Jesse doesn't argue before lying back down.

Lukas stays sitting up, watching Petra, for a little longer before he lies down too, frowning lightly.

Jesse's not going to act like some sort of mind reader, and there's no way to know for sure since Jesse's eyes close first, but all the same, Jesse's pretty sure they both fall asleep looking at red hair the wind pulls and twists the same way it tries to move their sheets and blankets.


	3. Day Three

The words slip out, as naturally as they ever do, before Soren has a chance to think about what he's saying. He's never been good at thinking too long, or long at all, before he speaks, something that seems to have only gotten worse.

A side effect of living alone with no real form of verbal communication other than talking to himself and mimicking sounds made by Endermen, undoubtedly.

"Ask me no questions, and I'll tell you no lies."

It's one part poetic, two parts surprisingly harsh reality.

Not that Jesse seems to realize what kind of weight those words hold, how true they are, instead focusing on how it's not much of an answer, and Soren can't be more grateful for it, even as he snaps back at Jesse and gets to giving the golems orders.

Even with news of the end of the world and horrible monsters, as well as the destruction of Soren's laboratory, Jesse's been an absolute delight, especially for the first person to talk to him in years, and maybe that makes the bitter taste in his mouth even nastier.

They're not new words, achingly familiar in all the worst ways and burning in the back of his mind, staying there even as the various mobs are taken care of and even as he starts to loot through his own chests, refusing to be drowned out by his attempts to focus on how unorganized he can be and what a shame that is. Most people would be better about storing their super weapons, after all, and while it's been a while, he should at least have these chests labeled.

He would never consider himself the type of person to have a catchphrase. And he supposes it's not one, not really, he'd have to say it more often for that to be true.

It's a fitting one, though, isn't it?

And while Soren might not say it often, it does seem to pop up at times where, if the people he was talking to knew anything about the real him, it'd be glaringly obvious and maybe even a little funny, in a sad way. He supposes that description could work for who he is in general, and it's hard to let that sort of realization go.

His tongue feels heavy in his mouth, too dry, and it should, poisonous thing that it is.

If they live to tomorrow, if any part of the world makes it, which is the outcome he tries to focus on even with the fear bubbling up in his chest and trying to claw its way out of his throat, it'll be something he can change.

For better or worse, he's always preferred acting to doing nothing, even if what he does makes things worse, and making himself a better person hardly seems so wrong.

After all, this alone brings some sort of end, or pause, to his studies. With the End flooded and his laboratory waterlogged, fixing up everything that's been damaged could take weeks, never mind how long placating the Endermen and letting them return to a passive state could last, if they ever come back, and...

And his friends might not let him go so easily again.

It surprises Soren more than anything that he doesn't want them to, that he wants them to take him back and never let go.

So many people have let go and he's tossed away too many.

He pauses, one hand holding the chest's surprisingly heavy lid open while his other hand stops on top of a small, neatly arranged pile of iron, fingers curled and pushing against the metal, and he tries to ignore the way both hands are shaking as he swallows.

His fingers tremble more as he tries and fails to focus on the background noise that's Jesse talking to some of the others, on Gabriel's cough and what he could possibly have, because his worst enemy has always been himself and his tendency to overthink things and not be able to stop. His mouth twists into what's supposed to be a grin and what ends up trembling itself before vanishing.

The Order of the Stone, even if they haven't been that in a very long time, are his friends, even if none of them ever visited him, even if they let things go quiet after he gave them everything they could ever want, because really, it's his fault. He's the one who disappeared, who did his best to keep them from knowing where he was, because running's always been easiest for him, especially when dealing with emotions he doesn't want or care to understand.

That doesn't mean they don't care.

Gabriel, even with the terrible condition he's in and the way he refuses to talk about it, seems far happier to see Soren than he'd ever expect. Maybe he can hope the same's true for Ellegaard and Magnus. Supposedly, they asked for him. Even if they want nothing to do with him, there's no doubt that there'll be a lot of work to do to take care of what remains of the Witherstorm, and if Soren's good at anything, it's building.

He knows it'll never be the same again because it can't, something like this doesn't just happen and have no effect, and he knows who made this monster and knows this can't possibly end well, knows that even if the Order reunites, and he wants that more than almost anything else, it won't feel like it should.

There's a reason he left.

Soren shakes his head, letting his hands go still, and ignoring it when they don't, before digging deeper into the chest that has to be the right one.

Of course things won't be the same.

People change. Even without the Witherstorm, the world would be different from how he left it. It's what he gets for isolating himself for so long.

And, no matter his fears, no matter how... grounded or realistic they might be, he has a job to do. People are actually counting on him for once, actually sought him out for help because they trust him and what he can do, his friends are actually counting on him, maybe mostly for his stuff but at least a little on him too.

If everything else has changed, why can't he?

(It's not going to change, it never has and it never will, he's always been a coward and a liar and a horrible, terrible person whose first concern will always be his own safety.

But he's good at lying, so very good, especially to himself.)


	4. Day Four

They'll all be splitting up any second, because they have to if they want to get away from the Witherstorms, lurking beyond the nearby mountains and hills, bright and steady purple beams more often than not flickering over their little makeshift camp, and getting closer by the second.

They'd definitely all be either hiding or on the move already if it wasn't for everyone saying their quick goodbyes to each other.

It makes sense, seeing as how this could be the last time they're together as a group, and it's touching and all, but Magnus takes advantage of the distraction all the same.

He has a goodbye of his own to take care of.

He's already said goodbye to Gabriel, not that it means anything to somebody who can't remember him, but there's only so much and so long he can worry about that. What he wants to take care of is more of a special little chat than an actual goodbye, really.

All it takes to get it started is to wait until Gabriel and Soren move, both seemingly more interested in the Witherstorms and Jesse's crew, before pulling Ivor to the side.

"Ivor." Funnily enough, he doesn't have much trouble growling the name a second time.

"Magnus." To be fair, Ivor doesn't seem to mind matching it either.

And what Magnus says next probably should take more effort than it does, shouldn't feel as easy to say as it happens to be, but it's what he says and the faster he can say it, the better.

"If you hurt any of them _—_ "

"You'll what?" Anything Ivor's said in the few minutes he's been here have been nothing but dry and biting, but the scoff and sneer don't make the mocking tone any less annoying. "Hunt me down? Blow me into tiny pieces when you somehow find me?"

"Yup." And Magnus grins. A grin can mean a million things. This grin, toothy and twisted and fueled directly by the way his blood boils and his bones burn, isn't a nice one. "And I'll make you wish your damn monster killed you first."

"You'd never know. It would take you too long to find me."

Even at the best of times, a trip to the Far Lands takes around a week one way, on the fastest horses and with the best supplies, and they don't have either. Weeks of running and not knowing and maybe not even living don't sound fun, and Magnus still doesn't care as he gives a short nod.

"Yeah, it would. 'Cause there wouldn't be anything left." He jabs a thumb in the direction of the others. "If you hurt them, it's the end of the line. You better off yourself if you don't want to die to me or your crazy Witherstorm, because we both know you can't take it down on your own, just like I can't. And if you hurt any of them, I'll find out after they save everybody, because they'll toss you out and you'll be alone."

"Wouldn't be the first time." There's a pause, one where Magnus clenches his fist as he winces, expression changing just a bit too slowly for Ivor to miss it. "What makes you think I couldn't handle it myself?"

"If it was that easy, you wouldn't come begging for help." His grin comes the closest it's gotten to being a real smile before he narrows his eye again, and maybe if he tries hard enough, he can imagine his hands are wrapped around Ivor's neck instead of in fists, his fingers digging into his gloves. "'specially not after getting Ellie killed."

Ivor hesitates for a second, like the snarl means anything to him.

"And if you really cared so much, you'd go with them instead of running a fool's errand with one of your little fans."

There's a roar from one of the Witherstorms, almost a screech, and Magnus grits his teeth while he tries to ignore the way his skin pricks. A smarter person would probably just end the conversation and try to get a move on, while they still had their life and a chance at keeping it, but Magnus isn't a smarter person and he's getting the last word if he has anything to say about it.

He pauses just as he opens his mouth, not saying anything while he glances over at Axel. Axel might be looking the most laid back he's been in the entire time Magnus's been around him, even as his fingers twitch and he keeps glancing at the Witherstorms, and he still towers over his friends.

"'Little' look like it fits to you?" And his voice is so much lighter, so much more relaxed than the growl it was, but his grin stays just as empty and angry as it's been from the start.

Even if it gets a little bigger after Ivor rolls his eyes and doesn't answer the question.

"Point being, if you really meant it, you'd actually try and protect them." And Ivor gives a grin of his own, just as bitter as everything else he's done. "But you've always been better at pretending to be the hero, haven't you?"

"Ivor?" Whatever Magnus is about to say is lost in the wind as they both go quiet and focus on Soren, who looks anything but happy and about ready to join the argument. He's also, since the two of them have started talking, managed to get on a horse, along with everyone else travelling with him. "Are you coming or not? I doubt we'll have any luck finding your laboratory or this enchantment without you, but we'll have to try if you don't hurry it up."

"I'm coming." The words are spat as Ivor moves to sit behind Soren, and maybe, just maybe, Ivor's the one who'll end up dead before they have a chance to come back. The thought doesn't particularly bother Magnus, something that doesn't change in the slightest after Ivor looks back at him and smirks. "Oh, and Magnus? Good luck."

If it wasn't the end of the world, Magnus would probably try to strangle him. Would definitely tackle him off the horse and shout a few choice insults, that's for sure.

As it is, his mouth just twists into another grin, his voice just as biting as Ivor's.

"Same to you."

Then the horses take off at the same time Magnus turns and runs, moving beside Axel, in the opposite direction of where their last shot at winning this fight is going. It doesn't escape Magnus that he's feeling oddly calm, even as the Witherstorms roar again, the noise making the ground and his bones shake, tentacles beginning to yank trees out by their roots while the flying abominations move past the ring of mountains. They're in the most danger, most immediate danger at least, and he knows he should be terrified.

There aren't many places a griefer feels more at home than in the thick of the chaos, though.


	5. Day Five

It's just an ordinary day.

Everything's the same as it always is, because, for better or worse, a city forever low on resources and space tends to lead to behavior best described as routine. It works well for everyone, even for the people it doesn't, and it's never going to change.

Why should it?

A city made of gold has nothing to complain about, not when everything's been figured out and resources are used as efficiently as they can be.

Everyone has their jobs to do, duties to take care of, places to go, and simple hobbies to mess with at the same times they always do, and no one's ever late or somewhere else they shouldn't be because there's nothing to stop them. No one gets hurt, after all, in a city where the only thing to fear is the gnawing hunger before they can finally make some food.

And for some people, their idea of an ordinary day is pretty much just as scheduled, if with a few tweaks and differences.

But in a city where everything runs like clockwork, from what times the guards rotate to how long it takes a building plan to get authorized and materials to be provided and how long it takes someone to get fed up with waiting, with only a few differences now and then, even being part of a growing rebellion tends to be predictable.

All the same, every day, there's a small window of time where they can try to craft and build whatever they want, even if they don't know much yet.

They get to try whatever they want, as long as it doesn't hurt anybody, and it's the closest thing to what feels like real control. It's the closest most of them feel to being a part of an actual community, a group of people they choose to be around instead of have to deal with day in and day out, and not even people who choose not to come back question why the club meets up as often as it does, or why people risk stealing resources for it.

The day's just as normal for the captain of the guard, finishing up patrol before he stands guard for the next several hours, smiling and saying good morning to everyone he passes.

One of said people returns the smile and greeting before opening the doors to his inn, smile not meeting his eyes but practiced, almost warm, and close enough to a real smile to not be worth calling out. It's the same smile he gives every guard every morning, a smile that warms up as he greets his friends and keeps his gaze off the glaringly bright palace.

Said palace is as quiet as always, inside and out, and the ruler in it's just as poised and calculated as she was yesterday, and the day before that, and all the other days that came before.

Her title might as well be her name, used always while the other is used never.

An expected part of her day is having to remind herself as she reads over her title what that name is, if only for her own sake.

Even she has her routine, slightly more varied on some days but still as exact as she can have it. Her day begins with reading the report from Reginald, same and uneventful as it always is, handwriting as crisp and neat as she's grown to expect, and she'll soon follow it up by writing paperwork and checking on Benedict.

To everyone in the city, it's a perfectly ordinary day.

At least, that's how it seems before outsiders show up, wearing odd clothes and not even vaguely familiar the way most people in the city are to each other.

And if the rumors, one of the only unlimited forms of entertainment most people can get, are to be believed, they simply pop out of thin air, which sounds impossible, but so does outsiders existing in the first place.

Milo's always been different, running the only inn in the city, the only building to have the limited entertainment that it does, and one of the few people to ever spend any time in jail, especially for as long as he did. He's the person everybody who wants something out of the ordinary goes to, it's what comes with running a secret building club that everyone but the guards and the Founder knows about, so it's no surprise that his inn's where the strange, new people go.

It gets weirder when they go to see the Founder.

Nobody goes to see the Founder, not unless they'd like a chance to build or have committed some sort of crime and have to see her.

What makes it even weirder is that more outsiders enter the city, and rumors spread even faster about these ones building, using up resources just because they feel like it.

And it's so, so easy to tell that they're different, that they're outsiders too, even if that still shouldn't be possible. Even if it wasn't for their odd clothes, even more stylish than what the Founder wears and made of strange materials that not even the guards get to use for their armor, it's easy to see, plain as day in the way they gape at and question normal, regular things, the way they talk, close but just different enough.

That doesn't make it any less shocking, when said outsiders need to be hunted down for the crime they committed. No one's ever been chased by the guards before.

No one's ever run.

And it just gets more and more interesting from there.

* * *

Another first, more terrifying and unexpected, is the city being on fire, overflowing with very terrifying, very dangerous creatures none of them have ever seen and never want to see again. Unsurprisingly, in a way that does end up taking more than a few of them by surprise, guards that have never fought monsters don't stand a much better chance against them than the rest of the city does.

The city's on fire and flooded and every inch of it is a wreck in ways it's never been before, and the outsiders, the newer ones, tell them they have to leave.

And every single one of them does what's expected, because it's what they need to do to survive and even if there isn't any place to land, it's better than what's become of their homes.

The first of many unexpected things after that is that they live, the second being that their lives, quite simply, can't snap back to what they used to be.

It's not such a bad thing.

In a sense, the clockwork's still ticking, just in a million different ways and as it pleases.

Because now there are prisoners to take care of, a different, more uneasy and compromising, style of leadership to get used to, homes to build and places to explore and so many new things to learn, and it's not predictable anymore. Everything is new, everything could change, and there's so much they have to do to rebuild.

It's an ordinary day, until it isn't.


	6. Day Six

For people who've only known one town, never mind one world, all their lives, it's impossible to know how constricting being stuck in a single world can be.

Cassie Rose has been to more worlds than anyone could possibly count, and being stuck in one for days is enough to make her feel claustrophobic.

After a few years?

She might as well be tied up and locked tight in a box.

Especially since she's known since the beginning that there's been a portal key stuck here, somewhere, with her, despite her inability to find it despite searching high and low and raiding everything possible. The problem's been that she wasn't part of the group that opened the portal here, and certainly wasn't part of the group that hid the key. Even if she was, it's been so long since then that she doubts she'd remember where it is. Hadrian and the others might not even remember; it's probably the main reason they didn't bother getting rid of the key.

She wasn't sure if they'd even left a key, honestly, and she still doesn't know if it's possible to describe how relieving it was to find out that someone from this world had simply found it in a place she hadn't looked.

Maybe it was a bit of a blow to her pride, something she'll admit stings easy and will always be her downfall, to know someone so stupid found what she couldn't despite years and years of trying so hard.

Well, stupid isn't as accurate as it sounds at first.

They're all extremely good performers and actors, and some of them are borderline brilliant, for their world at least.

Sickeningly genuine might fit better.

It's not that Cassie minds nice people or anything, no more so than she minds people in general, but at this point, it feels like waking up at some ungodly hour of the morning only to be greeted by infuriatingly happy faces and chipper voices that never know when to shut up. It's like they're just rubbing her nose in it, how she's stuck here in this pathetic world and how they're all somehow happy with being so confined and not even knowing it.

So happy with being trapped and still managing to find the key out of this prison, treating it like some sort of prize instead of what should've been Cassie's this entire time.

But it's okay. It's all okay now, because they trust her and that'll be their doom.

After all, who better than a jack of all trades to make the ultimate murder mansion? It's cliché, she knows, but it's been the most fun she's had in a while and she'll take it. Besides, in a way, she'll be doing them a favor. Real friends wouldn't turn on each other the way she knows they will tonight.

A big part of what's keeping Cassie going has been treating this like the fun project it should be, the light at the end of an insufferable tunnel.

She doesn't even want the power or the company she used to have back. She has Winslow, after all, and he won't turn on her. What's the point in friends? She gets the feeling that, after getting out of here, she'll even be happy getting her blood lust fix by just killing random livestock and monsters. Revenge sounds tempting, admittedly, but she already knows the others can overpower her and she really doesn't want to be stuck in some other backwards world again.

But the inability to leave, to hop from world to world like she used to be able to do so easily...

It's maddening.

And every single one of them, every "friend" who'll follow their invitations tonight, is going to pay.

She'll be sure to thank whoever has her key once they're dead.

Cassie relaxes her grip on the paintbrush, realizing just now how tight her grip's gotten. This is the last portrait, and she really wouldn't want to screw it up and have to start over.

That being said, she's so close she can almost taste it, and in just a couple of hours, all of this will be behind her.

The basement, if it can be called that, is wonderfully damp and dark, the torchlight providing just enough light for her to see what she's doing and to showcase the neatly labeled and lined up chests. There's distant clanging and scratching, zombies already beginning to moan and hiss as they struggle against the bars. In a few hours, she'll give them what they want.

On one hand, she supposes she could worry about someone finding her down here, after weeks and weeks of lying and trying to gain their trust, someone having followed her without her knowing, but it doesn't matter. If she catches them, she'll just kill them a little early, and if they tell the others, no one will believe them.

Her? Sweet, innocent Cassie Rose? A murderer?

(It's actually extremely satisfying and more than fitting for a world where so much of what people do revolves around being on a stage. She may not like it, not at all, but she understands to a point why Hadrian had her banished here.

Somebody as two faced as she can be fits in perfectly in a world where people put on all sort of shows and tricks for an audience, acting whatever way gets the best reactions.

And it'll be just as fitting when they die to the same traps they've shown off and discussed.)

Cassie grins as she adds the last finishing touches on the portrait before gently leaning it against the wall, grinning as she puts her paintbrush aside. Her grin gets wider as Winslow rubs against her legs, purr sneaking into the small meow he gives, and she doesn't hesitate before bending down to scoop him up and hold him close, mumbling words that don't mean anything as she nuzzles him back.

Even if she only has to kill one person to get what she needs, which will admittedly be a bit of a shame after all her work and preparations, it doesn't matter if she just takes the flint and steal and disappears. The others will know that she's to blame, and they'll never be able to find her.

At best, they'll die in another world, or before they ever get to the portal itself, and Cassie will be no worse for wear either way.

After tonight, she and Winslow are leaving.

After tonight, she never has to set foot in this world or even think about it again.

For someone who has no home to come back to and is certain she never wants one, it's the closest to feeling like she's coming home she's ever been.


	7. Day Seven

Jesse's head's been pounding pretty much since they all entered this world, first because fighting with Petra really wasn't what Jesse wanted and then because super zombies, crazy redstone chips that can't be removed with anything but water, and an evil machine happen to be even worse.

The headache seems to be trying its best to reach migraine levels, the mix of eerie glows, dim shadows, and sharper and brighter streaks of light made by active redstone not helping Jesse's head feel any better. If anything, it's really making Harper's puzzle so much more confusing and complicated than it needs to be or even probably is.

It's kind of hard to focus on verbal hints and a random assortment of items, though, when all Jesse can hear is Petra and Lukas's screams on repeat.

A good leader wouldn't have ever let them come close to being chipped.

Maybe that's why Jesse's also so eager to talk to Petra, to stop working on the puzzle for just a bit. At least Petra's here. Petra's safe, Petra's okay, and that means Lukas hopefully will be too when Jesse takes down PAMA. But taking down PAMA means getting out of here soon and getting Harper's special headset, so Jesse tries to end to the conversation after making sure Petra's okay.

It doesn't make it any less of a surprise, though definitely a pleasant one, when Petra speaks up again, reaching out and touching Jesse's shoulder before Jesse can turn and walk away.

"Hey, Jesse?"

"Yeah?" Jesse's smile's tighter than it should be, probably looking just as forced as it feels, and Jesse tries not to wince as Petra pulls her hand away.

Petra opens and closes her mouth several times, almost fumbling with her hands as her gaze falls on them. Jesse's smile softens before it disappears altogether, and when Jesse's just about to ask what's wrong, if Petra's in pain or if the chip's somehow still hurting her, Petra sighs, shoulders slumping and her hands relaxing as she looks back up at Jesse.

"I'm sorry."

Jesse realizes that, while Petra could've been trying to say almost anything, Jesse still wasn't expecting that.

Still, an apology is a lot better than bad news, and Jesse smiles again, resting a hand on the side of Petra's arm.

"You already said that."

While Jesse might still not agree with everything, or most of, what Petra said, after so much time spent hopping from world to world would be enough to make anybody want to snap. If Jesse was Petra, Jesse'd be pretty unhappy too. It's not as if Jesse doesn't understand that, as the leader, them not being home _is_ Jesse's fault, because it's the truth. Petra running off into some unknown world where she could've died's a little more frustrating, but, again, Jesse gets it.

"Yeah, but not _—_ not really." Petra sighs, tilting her head slightly to the side as she rubs the back of her neck. "Just because I said it doesn't make it okay. And I'm not just sorry because I was being a jerk earlier. I'm sorry about that too, but that's not... it. Not all of it."

"Why else would you be sorry?"

"I haven't been that much help. You're doing a better job than I ever could, but I just _—_ I'm not doing enough." Petra swallows before smiling. "That sounds weird, since I have no idea how I could with you taking care of this right now, but it shouldn't. I mean, everybody wants to be helpful. There's nothing strange about that, right?"

The question itself is fine, but what Jesse doesn't miss is the way Petra's smile trembles, a little lopsided and her teeth showing slightly. Even easier to catch is the way her foot keeps twitching, fidgeting and twitching while Petra's smile fails to meet her eyes.

"You're worried PAMA's still affecting you?"

"Like I said, Jesse, it was really weird. So many people, so many thoughts, and we were all just... just doing what PAMA wanted so we could be useful."

Petra stares past Jesse, but her eyes seem almost unfocused, like she's not staring at anything actually around them. Jesse doesn't respond for a few moments, squeezing Petra's arm lightly and giving a weak chuckle.

"You're right, it sounds pretty crazy."

That seems to snap Petra out of whatever daze she was in, focusing on Jesse again, but the look in her eyes isn't any brighter.

"And it _—_ I _—_ well, I'm not going to act like I don't know when I screwed up. It kind of made me realize I haven't been very good." Petra pauses, as the spiders hissing behind the wall of water seem to entirely give up and start climbing back to the surface. "At being a good friend or being any help. I can't be mad at you for taking the lead when all I do is leave the work to you."

Jesse likes being recognized for being the leader, for doing what a leader does instead of yelled at for it, but Petra tearing herself down isn't really any better.

"You always help. If it weren't for you, I'd be dead. I definitely wouldn't be standing here." Without Petra, Jesse probably would've died back during Endercon, alone, unarmed, and surrounded by hungry spiders in the forest. "You do plenty of work."

"Yeah, but not enough to get mad at you for being the leader. That's what you've always been." Petra starts to say something, cutting herself off before thinking better of it and continuing anyway. "After what I did earlier, I'm sorta surprised you unchipped me instead of Lukas."

"Petra _—_ "

Petra shakes her head, leaning away from Jesse just enough for it to be noticeable but still not pulling away from Jesse's touch.

"I'm not feeling sorry for myself. But I need to start helping more, and do it because I want to be helpful, not because something's... making me be 'useful'." Petra raises her hands for a moment, making quotation marks in the air as she says the word. "If there's anything I can do, let me know."

"Right now, the best you can do to help is relax." Petra doesn't look anywhere near as bad as she did when she was withered, but Jesse knows exhaustion and Petra looks about ready to pass out. Anybody would be, after that. Jesse feels ready to collapse as it is, and Petra's the one who got chipped. "I mean it. That _—_ that looked pretty painful, Petra, even before it electrocuted you."

And that's Jesse's fault too.

"...it wasn't exactly a picnic." Petra's grimace is quick to twist into what's probably meant to be a smile and comes across as a thin line instead. "But it's what I got myself into. I'm fine now."

"Petra." Jesse's hand moves up to Petra's shoulder, grip gentle but firm. "Relax. We'll be out of this soon, especially if we want to save Harper in time, and you need all the rest you can get. I'm gonna need you to be at your best when we get Lukas back."

"Alright." Petra smiles, a tired smile that actually meets her eyes, as she leans lightly against the wall, crossing her arms over her chest. "Thanks, Jesse."

It's not going to be easy, because nothing has been lately, from tough decisions to tough worlds and tough conditions in general. Something tells Jesse it's not going to get any easier now.

Jesse grins as the neon glow of the lines of redstone get the tiniest bit dimmer, the lighting in general far more gentle by the crafting table.

And that's okay. It doesn't have to be easy to be doable. They can all worry about that when they get there, when they see just what they're up against and what kind of options they have.

Right now, Jesse has a redstone torch to craft.


	8. Day Eight

Admittedly, the competitor dorms are a lot nicer than Jesse expected, given the overall hopeless and trapped feel of the "town".

There's a large, unlit fireplace, the ashes in it cold but the area surrounding it surprisingly clean. Instead, for light, there are several lamps nicely arranged around the top of the room, light enough to see but not too bright to rest. The beds themselves have considerable space between them, all four neatly made. The red blankets are softer than any Jesse's felt since running into the portal hall, and the mattress sinks just the right amount under pressure to be deceptively comforting.

If what Harper was saying about people once coming here willing is true, though, it makes sense. People actually competing for fun would need and would be able to get a good night's sleep somewhere actually comfortable, especially if whoever ran the games wanted them to come back. It's cold, to be fair, once Jesse and Petra remove their armor, but that's also to be expected, since there's snow scattered everywhere outside, both on the ground and still falling, and they have no fire.

Maybe when they made the switch from having the games be voluntary to making them mandatory and inescapable, Hadrian just didn't bother changing the sleeping quarters.

Whatever the reason, Jesse's grateful.

Between surviving the fire world, dealing with PAMA, and getting Ivor and Lukas back, none of them have had any time to rest. Sleep, even if it's the night before they have to fight for their lives and in a place where they're being held against their will, is way too tempting to pass up.

Even the cold is easy enough to ignore, if only because they're all exhausted, by cocooning themselves with blankets.  Worst comes to worst, Jesse's not opposed to cuddling. It wouldn't be the first time.

What is happening, though, for the first time in a long time, is that they get to lay back and enjoy a few hours where they're not running or hiding or fighting. Thinking about tomorrow isn't fun, but it's actually just stuff Jesse and Petra get to handle in the morning instead of right away.

And maybe the four of them look kind of silly, each sitting up in their own bed and holding their blankets close, but it's the nicest thing Jesse's seen in a long time.

"Anybody got any ideas?" Jesse can't remember the last time that question was asked with anything but some sort of urgency. It's asked in a low tone, but more for the sake of the other teams, all resting themselves in their own dorms connected by tall hallways. It's an absolute relief to ask that kind of question, and hear it, as something more relaxed, something that almost doesn't need to be asked at all.

Petra's grin as she leans against the wall, pulling the blankets a little closer, is just as nice.

"Sounds like it's pretty simple, no matter what they throw at us. We beat whoever we need to, however we need to, and make Hadrian own up to his deal."

Given the grins Jesse's sharing with Ivor and Lukas, everybody's in agreement. Ivor in particular, whose eyes keep closing and whose posture's the most relaxed, most of him hidden beneath the blankets, seems to enjoy the idea.

"And after that, we'll finally get to leave these 'games' behind us and go home."

Home.

Through this entire adventure, this entire disaster, that's all anybody's wanted.

And it sounds like that's what they're finally getting. Maybe there's a little pressure there, but Jesse's not about to let everybody down now, not when they're so close.

"I'm all for that. Not looking forward to tomorrow, though." Lukas pauses before wincing, smile softening as he looks away from Ivor at to Jesse. "Sorry, Jesse. Not that I don't trust you and Petra or anything, but we've kind of got a huge disadvantage already, and these guys seem kind of brutal."

Jesse's been an awful leader and Jesse knows they all know it.

"We can handle it." But it's not getting screwed up this time. Their freedom isn't going to be tossed away, not here and not like this. "Right, guys?"

"Right." Petra nods, foot moving enough under the blanket for everyone else to notice, but her grin isn't any weaker. "No matter what Hadrian tries to pull, we'll be ready for him."

She'll do great.

They both will.

They have to. And while Petra's going to do her best and Jesse knows that'll be more than enough, Jesse'll make sure anything she's worried about won't come close to happening.

They're a team.

"It's not like he can do anything worse than what he already did." Lukas drags Jesse back to reality as he shifts, lying down on his side and still facing the others. It's a miracle he's still awake, especially after the day he's had. "Not that I want to die again and get sent back to the mines, but at least we know what's coming."

And that's also oddly comforting.

"That's true. We already know the stakes, and it doesn't matter anyway because we're going to win." Jesse lies down too, almost melting into the mattress with a warm smile. "What's the worst he could do?"

* * *

There's a loud clang, the iron bars not moving as his fist slams into them.

"Axel."

It's the same noise and same lack of anything as he punches the bars again.

"Axel."

Axel's upper lip curls back as he takes a second longer, pulling his arm back more before hitting cold metal, the ringing in his ears louder but the bars still not budging.

" _Axel_." He stops, fist pausing right before it can slam into the iron again, and looks over. Olivia's standing at the front of her way too cramped and tiny cell, one hand lying limp on the obsidian and the other loosely curled around one of the bars. "Give it up. You're only going to hurt yourself if you keep that up."

He knows she can see the bloodied bars. They look a little weird in the lava light, but he'd say he's well past the point of worrying about getting hurt.

Axel lets his hand fall to his side, though, groaning as he does.

"Can't you get us out of here with some redstone or something?" Olivia's an absolute genius, no matter what she might say about herself, and if there's ever been a good time for her smarts to save them, this would be it.

"It's a bit of a tight fit, but even if I could, I can't do it without my stuff." Olivia rolls her eyes, holding her head up with a hand as she raises an eyebrow. "Don't tell me you've been sitting on some TNT the whole time?"

He's just about to answer when he stops himself, both him and Olivia freezing as another low snore coming from the much darker cell in the corner of the room. Neither of them have any idea who's in there, or why anybody else would be, but so far, whoever it is hasn't woken up and it's probably not going to be any better when they do.

"I wish." He snorts, voice quieter as he glares down at the obsidian floor. "It'd come in handy."

"How?" Olivia's voice might be quieter too, but every word drips with snark as she gestures around them with a hand. "In case you forgot, we're stuck in obsidian cages, in an obsidian room, surrounded by lava and glass. All blowing stuff up's going to do is get us killed."

And maybe Axel's spent too long punching metal and getting nowhere for it, but he doesn't bother to stop the snarl as he turns his head more to look at her.

"So what? You just want to wait around here until something happens?" Axel continues before Olivia can cut in, and while she frowns, she doesn't interrupt. "What do you think Jesse's going to do when that jerk says we die, or something else nasty happens to us, if Jesse doesn't do what he wants? He could make Jesse do anything."

Not only did they find out that they could hear the guy through obsidian, but they also learned that he liked gloating. The sicko was way too happy to answer their questions about why they were here and what he wanted to use them for.

Maybe it's just Axel, but he doesn't want to be bait. He shouldn't have let either of them get knocked out in the first place.

"That's not going to happen." Some of the lava above them shifts, bubbling and sizzling as Olivia frowns, her brow furrowing. "Jesse's smarter than that."

The two of them share a glance, Axel's bloodied and sore fingers wrapping tightly around the iron bars.

It’s not about how smart Jesse is, because Jesse always has, and always will, put other people first, even when it’s a really stupid choice.

Olivia slumps back out of view, sounding a lot wearier and lower, like she's sitting down.

"What are we going to do?"

"Punch our way out of here before Jesse ever finds out where we are."

Olivia doesn't answer him, but she doesn't say anything when Axel starts hitting the bars again.

He doesn't stop punching for at least another hour, when his hands are covered in blood and too sore to move.


	9. Day Nine

There's something interestingly jarring in coming home to find out that it's just before noon, when all of them are exhausted and could probably sleep for days. Not that how bright it is stops any of them. Lukas is pretty sure half of them go and call it a day as soon as they make it out of the treasure hall and into the temple itself, and he can't blame them.

While adventures are always exciting and definitely interesting, he doesn't think any of them mind the break they're getting after the nonstop string of adventures. Especially because they're home and nobody can take that away from them.

And oh Notch is it way too tempting to just crawl into the nearest bed and collapse.

But he's new to everything, and so's Em, so they both get a bare bones tour from Jesse before they’re left alone when Jesse disappears, likely to get some sleep.

He's not sure what stops him from doing the same. It might just be that he's thinking too many things at once, his brain way too active and keeping him more awake than he has any right to be.

Maybe he's curious about what Ivor's up to, about why he'd just up and snatch the atlas before bolting, but not enough to throw himself into another adventure so soon.

It's hard not to be a little concerned, after how desperate everyone was to escape the portals. It's not like Ivor can't make his own choices and deal with them himself, though. Ivor survived for years on his own, and, if being stuck with him through every portal hop and mad dash to try and survive has taught Lukas anything, it's that Ivor can take care of himself.

As out there and odd as Ivor can sometimes seem, he has his reasons for doing things, and Lukas knows he wouldn't just run right back to the portals if he didn't have a good reason. He'll come back when he's good and ready, once he's found whatever he's looking for.

Part of why he can't sleep might just be that it feels so surreal, to actually be here.

They did it.

They're done.

Now they can rest, safe and sound and knowing they're home, like they've wanted to the entire time.

And maybe that's part of the problem right there.

Em feels like a newcomer, but that's only because she's new to the group.

To be honest, it's not like the temple was Lukas's home either, before he ended up helping check the Old Builder's jungle temple out.

The world is, which is a huge accomplishment that might have him pass out soon, and Jesse's already insisted that it's going to be his home soon, that he's more than welcome to stay and be part of the Order because he's part of the team, and Lukas took that like a starving ocelot takes fish, and that's what matters.

That's what makes this home now.

After everything, after surviving all the crazy stuff they ran into together, after already beating himself up again and again for leaving them before when he should've stayed, he doesn't want to leave the Order again. They're his friends.

If this is where they're living, it's where he is too.

There's a sort of closure in that, something that makes him feel warm and content and realize even more how sleepy he is.

Jesse was nice enough to even offer them pretty much any room they wanted, as long as they weren't already taken, and at this point, Lukas would be happy claiming the floor.

Still, something keeps him on the balcony. It's well placed, shaded enough that sunlight doesn't make the area uncomfortably hot, but high enough that anyone standing on it gets a good view past the temple's walls and into the town that looks so lively, it might as well be a city.

It's a view he thinks he can get used to.

And maybe it's because he's tired enough that falling over the railing and off the balcony is almost a concern, but it doesn't surprise him when he turns his head and sees Em standing there, her eyes locked on all of the activity.

They're far enough away that the noise is duller, quieter, but there's plenty of it, and more than enough to let them know how busy and loud all the people down there are.

It's busier than Endercon ever was.

"So..." Em seems to have a lot of trouble tearing her eyes off the town, and it takes her a few moments before she turns her head to look at him, the wind pulling at her pigtails. "This is home?"

"Yeah." Lukas smiles, resting his elbow on the railing as he slouches. It's a good thing it's not too warm, really, otherwise he probably would be asleep. "Yeah, it's home."

"I can see why you guys fought so hard to get back here."

He shrugs, shoulders relaxing even more as the light breeze picks up, tugging at his own hair. One thing he'll definitely take care of after sleeping is getting some good hair gel.

"It's still pretty new to me." Lukas's gaze drifts, wandering around the area where he and the Oc _—_ Blaze Rods built their new homes, just past the bright colors of the stalls in the market. He spent a little over twenty four hours actually in his house before deciding to disappear. "I lived in the town that used to be here."

He doesn't miss the way Em raises an eyebrow, but he doesn't have to comment.

"Had to do some major rebuilding or something?" And he doesn't have to because she's apparently more than happy to take care of it for him.

"Something like that. There was an... accident."

It's not his story to tell and it's not one he wants to relive today. Or this week.

"Must've been a pretty big accident." And he half expects her tone to be accusatory, to be aggressive, but it's as relaxed as his is and this is one of the better ways this conversation could go, really.

"Yeah." He's not subtle when he changes the subject, but he's exhausted and doesn't really care enough to try to be. "I don't think I lived here long, though, after it was rebuilt. I definitely never lived here, in the temple."

He's more impressed with himself for not fumbling or slurring any of the words, or not badly enough for him to really notice.

"So you're just as new to this as I am?"

Lukas knows he's ready to fall over dead, but he doesn't miss the almost hopeful note in Em's voice. It's hard to tell, but...

He thinks Jesse made the right choice.

"Pretty much." He extends a hand, smiling. "Welcome to the team."

"Thanks." Em’s handshake is definitely firm and Lukas is reminded of how strong an ex-gladiator has to be. He doesn't think he hides the wince in time, but he doesn't think she minds either, if her grin getting bigger means anything. "It's good to be home."

Neither of them know it as their home, not yet, not really, but he thinks she sums up how it feels pretty well.


End file.
